There was a time when I wanted to give up school and just dance. School, I felt was too fast, the change of mind every 40 minutes with a new subject and a different teacher was difficult for me to enjoy as I like doing something at depth and taking my own sweet time. Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar never gained enough empathy as I must have been working on the left over algebra in my mind, trying to interpret numerical parallels of alphabets. While others would get enthusiastic about Sir Newton’s gravitational theory, I would imagine him, the apple and tree and a lush green around, an influence of the art class near the alluring old library that we would call, the room with a stretch of windows and a lot of breeze.
My grades began to scale down and I found myself demotivated to study. It was then that my ‘mamu’, a humble government employee whose world revolved around me had gifted me a crystal idol of Ganesha. “This is a lucky charm and if you keep it safely, this will bring good luck and good grades,” he said. Of course I believed him and kept it safely. The Ganesha barely had any effect on my grades but it somehow gained a little more attention from me in comparison to the other ‘Gods and Goddesses’ in posters, clay models and paintings in the house.
Then started a period of loadshedding, especially in the summers. I loved it because it allowed me to escape to the roof with Ma, my grandmother and my nanny. It was a special time for me as Ma would sing her favourite Rabindrasangeet songs and I would join her as well. But this did not last long.
The board exams were on the way and my uncle had a solution. One day he came home in the evening with a box in his hand. It was a medium sized, little heavy box like object with two lights in front. He said, “Charge it for the next 24 hours and keep it plugged in. When there is loadshedding tomorrow, you can use this light.” The spark of light emerging from its maroon body fascinated me. It was kept in the drawing room and I would carefully carry it to my study when the power went off. It kind of made me feel responsible.
Academics took off, and I gradually developed interest. I landed up taking up higher education and continuing dance.
Now, after 15 years, I have again lost interest, but this time in dance as I somehow cannot push myself to imagine a lover being late with marks on his body and the heroine asking explanations or the Gopikas being awestruck with an imaginary Krishna playing his tricks. I miss Tagore and reading my own language. I miss debating about why Indian Railways found it justified to sign up with KFC when Modi is trying to promote consumption of Indian products.
Incidentally, loadshedding have begun again. Two days back the lights went off in the night, it was pitch dark. I have recently shifted to another locality which would be my shelter for the last 9 months in Chennai. I felt terribly lonely and helpless. There is no roof I could escape to, Ma too far to sing a song and Mamu no more.
The next day I went to Big Bazaar and bought an emergency light. I charged it for the next 24 hours and switched it on to check this morning. Iv kept it in the drawing room; a smile to many memories I once had. It is maroon and illuminating!
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